


Coming Home

by ByTheDawn



Series: Stolen Moments [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://swanqueenweek.tumblr.com/">Swan Queen Week Midwinter 2014</a>. Day six: Out Of Storybrooke AU </p><p>When Regina casts the curse that will take away Emma’s memories, she has to replace her whole life. She gives Emma new parents—parents who still remember her when the curse finally breaks. While Emma and Regina try to come to terms with the fact that their kiss—a kiss that Regina never intended to happen—was the one to break the curse, Emma invites Regina to join her and Henry for a trip to her parents, because who better to explain why they suddenly have memories of a woman who has only been in their lives for a year than Regina? Regina accepts, but knows that it will be hard to fight her ever-growing feelings for Emma when she will be in such close proximity to her for days—especially when she finds out they will be sharing a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Emma has all her memories replaced, so she never grew up in foster care, and even thinks Henry has a different father. This is also so not how this storyline is going to play out, it might as well be an alternate universe altogether.

Regina’s eyes scanned the pages of a weathered copy of Tolstoy’s third book of War and Peace as she sat curled up on the couch in her den, enjoying the warmth of the fire burning in the fireplace, and trying to tune out the occasional sound of laughter that came from the opposite end of the couch so as not to lose her concentration. The blond haired woman whose feet were casually brushing the side of Regina’s legs was watching a show on the tablet on her lap, headphones in both ears, and Regina found herself sneaking short glances every few minutes as Emma remained lost in whatever she was watching. She doubted Emma even realized she was emoting so much, and Regina found the short-lived sympathetic sounds that spilled from her companion very endearing, although they were quite a distraction as well. For the third time tonight, Regina found herself having to re-read a passage that she had inadvertently glanced over, distracted by the snort of amusement that spilling from between curled up lips.

It was beyond odd to sit here so familiarly with the woman she had not seen for more than a year after wishing her such an emotional goodbye. Her return to Storybrooke had been a shock to her system; to see Emma again—to see Henry again—after all that time and not having either of them remember her and the importance they had in her life had been crushing. And yet, it had caused a joy in her she had not been able to deny.

Those first months in the Enchanted Forest had been the worst, by far. All of them—not just the core group traveling back with her, but everyone who had previously lived in Storybrooke and was now back ‘home’—had needed time to adjust. To be back in their old outfits, forced back into a world that they were familiar with but which had changed considerably… it was painful. Especially to Regina, who had been greeted by a legacy of past mistakes and evil deeds. To her great surprise, it had been Snow White and Charming who had extended the proverbial olive branch, inviting her ‘home’ to their castle instead of the dark palace she had previously ruled. It seemed that their shared grief was enough to bury the hatchet somewhere else than in each other’s backs.

They had stood apart in the Kingdom; all of them. They had lived with modern comforts, modern ideas, for almost twenty-nine years, and found themselves longing for a middle-ground that did not exist in the Kingdom. There was black, and there was white, and especially those who had never fitted that binary—Killian, Neal, herself—had found it virtually impossible to assimilate back into the daily grind.

Having a common enemy mended bridges that Regina had thought she would never be able to mend; bridges between her and Ruby Lucas, for example in whom she had found a valiant fighting companion, or Belle, whom she had always studiously avoided in Storybrooke thanks to the guilt over twenty-eight long years of incarceration. Even Neal and her had bonded somewhat over the long year, finding common ground in a love—she had come to admit it, finally—for Emma and the loss of Henry. Neal had only had the young boy in his life for a short while, but he loved him very much; he was his father, and she recognized that. They had found themselves inebriated one night and the only ones still awake, and before long, Regina was sharing stories of Henry’s life that she hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Emma. It had been painful but good, and from that point on, she had begun to see Neal as his own person and no longer solely as ‘the son of’, and another competitor for Henry’s affection. The irony of her realizing this after losing her son forever was not lost on her.

The Wicked Witch of the West had been a formidable enemy, and they had soon realized that defeating her would require the help of the Savior. With Rumpelstiltskin at least temporarily gone—Regina had no doubt he would come back one day, although she had never shared this information with the kind-hearted librarian who had sadly lost much of her unique spark after his passing—the power balance was unevenly scaled, although the Blue Fairy’s extensive knowledge of Oz and its related evils had given them quite the advantage once the first battles had been fought and their enemy identified. Long nights of whispered planning with Snow and Charming, days spend combing through old tomes, and long journeys to old acquaintances and dark places had been the result of their desire to come back to this world; to bring back Storybrooke. A new curse, meant to transport them back and reunite them with Emma and Henry. As soon as the idea was on the table—about four months after their return—it had taken over Regina’s life. 

It had taken so long to even find a new way now the old curse had been used up, so much planning had gone into the final result—especially because they had to take the Wicked Witch with them as well. They would create a place without magic. Again. A place where the Wicked Witch was simply a woman, cut off from her armies. A new Storybrooke without the memory loss; a daring plan and one not without its share of hitches. Chief amongst them was getting Emma and Henry to the location of Storybrooke before the town was created again; Emma would be written into the curse, but Henry could not be, and he would not be able to pass the city limit. That, of course, was unacceptable.

It had taken them half a year, give or take, to find a new way, a new curse. One that came with another sacrifice: she would never be able to return to the Enchanted Forest ever again. It was a price she was very willing to pay if it meant seeing Henry and Emma again; without them in her life, Regina had found it hardly worth living. She had tried; she had met a man who had reminded her so much of Emma. A man willing to look past her past transgressions, a man who was kind and loyal, a man who did not take her shit. His young son had reminded her much of Henry… she had tried to find happiness with them, encouraged by Snow and Charming, but in the end, Robin was a substitute for the woman she loved, and Roland a substitute for the son she had lost. In the end, they did not compare, and as the long days and long nights hunting for a way to go back took her away from them, she let them go. He may have been her destined soul mate once, but he was not her True Love. That honour went to one person only, and she was worlds away. 

With magical aid perceived long lost, they had managed to open a portal for Hook to sail his ship through. It had been necessary to resort to old magic; the Wicked Witch had found out about any attempt to grow magic beans, and she retaliated without restraint. Once through the portal, Hook had a month to locate Emma and Henry and take them back to the location previously held by Storybrooke, and no way to contact them if and when he did. It was a gamble, but one they had to take. Deciding who would go was a matter of elimination. Regina had to cast the curse, Snow and Charming needed to be here to lead the war against the Wicked Witch, and Neal was up in Rumpelstiltskin’s castle with Belle, sorting through the lost man’s items to find anything that could help them in their fight. It were they who had discovered the way to open a portal for Killian. No one else had qualified for the job but Hook and perhaps Ruby, and Ruby had become Charming’s second in command, with a large army under her control. She could not lightly be missed.

The month before casting the curse had been the hardest to get through; the war had intensified, the weight of her responsibilities had begun to weigh heavily on her shoulders, and her longing to hold Henry in her arms again and lay eyes upon Emma had driven her to sleepless nights and tortured days. She reminded herself it was worth it, and allowed Snow White to care for her every now and again, taking her advice to sleep, eating the meals she provided for her from the kitchen, and accompanying her on sporadic walks just to get her away from her books and laboratory. They had gotten closer than they had been in many years, and there was room for tentative love again, although the past would always weigh upon their bond.

The major offensive the day of casting had cost them greatly, but in the end, they had prevailed. They had found themselves in Storybrooke again, and the Wicked Witch had been caught. As soon as she had been secured, Snow White, Charming, Ruby, Neal and Regina had hurried to the docks. Regina could still recall the fear and anxiety she had felt as she waited to see if the ship appeared at the horizon, and then to find out if Emma and Henry had been on it. It was Snow who had caught her as they finally spotted the blonde woman on the deck, arms around a smaller form. The sob that had been torn from her had been unstoppable, and even so far away, seeing Emma and Henry again—knowing they were here, that they were safe, that their plan had worked—had caused her legs to give out. As Snow held her tight, both of them crying, Snow had whispered it over and over again in her ear: thank you. All Regina could think was that it was Regina herself who was gaining the most, despite her price.

Emma finding True Love had been made the condition to break the curse—which was what everyone involved had wanted for her. Regina had held no illusion that she was the person to provide that condition, especially when she had met the new Emma. She was softer. Kinder. She had not had the hardships bestowed upon her like the old Emma—Regina had made sure of that. Thinking she would never see the woman again—nor would her parents—she had created new parents for her, letting the curse find a couple who would be able to provide love to Emma, and who were there for her now. She never grew up in foster care, never went to jail; instead she had found love with the man who had given her Henry in a marriage she had entered into when young and in love. The only heartache she bestowed upon Emma was the death of Henry’s ‘father’ to cancer, which was discovered at such a late stage that the family had decided to make every minute count instead of trying therapy. Emma’s husband had said goodbye to her and his son on his own time and had passed away gently while Emma had been with him. It was the kindest thing she had been able to think of. 

The new Emma was successful, established, and happy—and Hook’s story of Storybrooke and fairy tale characters had shocked her to her core. He had not told her about her false memories, had not spoken about her past. He had saved that for her parents—and Regina, who had wanted to be there to explain the magical side of things. It had been an awkward talk, but a lot less painful than watching Henry come down the steps onto the dock and not rush forward to take him in her arms again like she had envisioned every single day of their separation. Emma took the news relatively well; she didn’t believe them or a second, but she had just seen a town appear from thin air, so she was open to the possibilities. This Emma was a lot more trusting and did not protect her heart and feelings quite so desperately.

Regina had found Henry to be different as well, more mature—he had grown so much—and better adjusted. He still took to Storybrooke and all the people who obviously loved him like it was a big adventure and like before, he was more willing than Emma to allow her into his life. He seemed to sense her love for him and went out of his way to include her in little moments. Knowing she—apparently—had once cared for him, he made sure to give her time with him and she enjoyed spoiling him as much as her conscience allowed her to get away with. 

Emma and her had clashed over Henry on multiple occasions—Emma feeling the jealousy of having to share the son who had been her sole focus for years. Regina sympathised and tried to accommodate her as much as possible, offering to include her in their outings even though spending time with the blonde felt like ripping out her heart again and again. As soon as she had laid eyes on Emma, she had known that she had been right about the second curse; her price had not just been giving up Henry, it was his mother as well; the woman she had finally realized she was deeply—deeply—in love with. Sadly, it had taken a magically induced fainting spell and a vision to drive that point home. 

Regina had found herself watching as Neal and Hook vied for Emma’s affections and choking in her love. Again, she was reduced to fighting with Emma, although she was always the one who mended things between them—for Henry, she told Emma—before taking the bait again. The parallels between this situation and the time when they had first met was not lost to her, but it did not sooth her. Emma had no interest in her, she had realized, and she did not have the same drive as the old Emma to find people who cared for her; she had those people in her life: Henry obviously, but also her new parents whom she called often. Regina had spent long nights with Snow and Charming discussing that development and while Snow and Charming were bravely staying positive, she could see that Emma’s close bond with two people she had only physically met a year ago hurt them. So no, Regina had not been the only one to hurt and rethink their plans—perhaps this had been a huge mistake.

The turning point had come three weeks ago, when Emma and her had gotten into their worst fight yet; on the steps of Regina’s completely restored mansion, while Henry was waiting in the car, Emma had laid into her again about her involvement in Henry’s life—the boy who had just spent the afternoon with her, baking cookies which now sat on a tin in his lap as he tried not to watch what was happening. Emma had gotten in her face, jabbing her chest, her face contorted in rage, and Regina was trying to fight herself, trying not to do what she had been dreaming of doing for nearly fourteen months now. Their eyes had met and she had seen the pain in the deep green that met her. She took the punishment, revelling in the attention in a perverted desire to be seen, be _noticed_ , by the blonde.

“Damn it, Regina!” Emma had shouted at her as she had refused to react. She had just stood there, hands clenched into fists, trying desperately not to move and reveal the feelings threatening to overcome her. 

“Do something!” Emma had added, and Regina had swallowed, tears coming to her eyes and refusing to spill them.

“I can’t…” She had whispered and Emma had stepped so tantalizingly close to her, searching her eyes, her own eyes so fierce they sent shivers of desire down Regina’s spine.

“Why not…?” Emma had asked, breathlessly, desperately, drowning in confusion over the woman’s strange behaviour. It had been the last straw. As her hands unclenched, she had rushed forward and had pressed her lips hard against Emma’s, pulling her close with one arm around her waist and keeping her trapped by the back of the head with the other. Emma had tensed against her, moaning in surprise, but Regina hadn’t been able to let go—not now. Kissing Emma had been like taking a breath of air after almost drowning; a cathartic bloodletting of emotions, and after a few seconds, Emma had softened under her hands. Lips had parted against hers and Regina hadn’t been able to think beyond taking the invitation. It had happened when their tongues touched; a shockwave powerful enough to rattle the windows and set off the proximity alarm of Regina’s BMW. Emma had pulled her harder against her then, pressing flush into her body as they kissed a moment more before parting, both out of breath.

“I don’t understand…” Emma had whispered as behind her Henry had scrambled out of the car, shouting for his mothers. 

Regina had not been able to give her an answer, but she had extracted herself enough to accept a bone crushing hug from Henry as he tried to process his returning memories. She had met Emma’s eyes over her son’s shoulder and found the conflicted eyes that met her painful to behold. Emma was struggling with the returned reality of her life—with the blissful lie being ripped from her. It was hard for Henry, but he gained a mother. It was harder for Emma, because she was suddenly forced to deal with a life of abandonment and bad decisions. Her eyes had flown to Henry, and Regina had literally been able to _see_ when the memories of giving him up returned. Emma took a step back, eyes widening.

“Emma, don’t. Wait, please! Emma!”

But Emma had not stopped, had not waited, as tears started spilling from her eyes, she had turned around and had run back to her car. She had gotten in and Regina stood by, completely frozen, arm around Henry who was still clutched to her side, and had then driven off. Because she had Henry to take care of, Regina had let Emma go. The next half hour had been a burry mess, with frantic phone calls to Snow and Ruby, and a rapid-fire question session with Henry. Emma had not picked up her phone, but two hours later she had gotten a text from Snow, saying they had found her and she was safe, just very upset. Regina had thanked her and had awoken Henry who had fallen asleep with his head on her lap while they had sat on the couch in the den. She had told him what she knew and had asked if he wanted to go to bed, and he had agreed. And so she had tucked in her son for the first time in what felt like forever. If she hadn’t felt so guilty and confused about the recent turn of events—and had not been so worried about Emma—she would have been elated.

The feet brushing her leg dug a little deeper under her thigh, and Regina shifted her weight a little to accommodate Emma, who looked up at her with a shy smile.

“Is this alright?” She asked, slipping one of the ear buds from the shell of her ear. Regina swallowed against her emotions and reached out to gently pat Emma’s shin. 

“Of course, dear.” She said truthfully, and marvelled at even this type of intimacy. Emma gave her a warm smile before returning to her show, and Regina allowed herself a moment more to absorb the moment.

Emma had kept her distance from her and Henry for a week, although she did call her son the following morning. Henry was confused, but Regina had an inkling as to what the blonde was going through; the guilt Emma had always wrestled with, the walls she had built, the pain she had felt—it must have been overwhelming to her. Top that with the grief over losing her imagined past, and the confusion of the curse being broken—both curses, it seemed—and Regina could easily understand why Emma needed to get away; that had been the old Emma’s way of dealing with everything, after all.

During the week, Emma had mostly stayed with her parents, and it had not been easy. Snow had called Regina every night with an update, and Regina could tell how guilty—selfish—Snow had felt for dragging Emma back here because she had been missing her so. Wouldn’t Emma have been better off staying away? With Henry? The thought had crossed Regina’s mind very often, but every time she had felt the memory of warm lips moving against hers, had seen Henry engrossed in a game or book, or smiling at her over dinner, and she had known that Emma and Henry belonged here.

Two weeks ago, Emma had shown up on the doorstep, in time for dinner. It had been an awkward affair, but thankfully, Henry had not taken his abandonment badly. He had hugged his mother and guided her in, bombarding her with questions and stories of what he now remembered and slowly, slowly, Emma had relaxed. Regina had kept mostly silent, letting Emma steer them to where she felt comfortable. It was clear, though, that if Emma was going to acknowledge their True Love’s kiss, it was going to happen carefully and in due time. 

Emma had come to dinner more often from that night on, and Henry had started switching between their homes continually, sometimes staying with Regina for the night, sometimes going home with Emma to her parents. It had been hard to see them go, but Regina had the buzz of True Love to sustain her, and new memories with her son. Now she knew this—knew that eventually, they would find a way to be a family—she could wait. Emma had started relaxing in her presence. As more and more of her memories merged, she became more comfortable. The Emma that emerged wasn’t the Emma Regina knew, but she was wonderful, regardless. She was less guarded than the old Emma, but more than the one who had been returned to her just a few short weeks ago. There was a natural desire to enjoy the moment in this new Emma that Regina found herself pulled towards. Regina was falling in love again, with the same person, and Emma seemed to slowly open herself up to enjoying longer periods of time with Regina.

Especially in the last week, Emma had stayed with her longer, talking or doing their own thing in the mansion. Usually she left around midnight. They were, Regina mused, friends; friends working hard to find a middle ground between surprised realization and year-long longing. Regina was doing everything in her power to give Emma the time she needed, to give her space. She hadn’t instigated any physical contact, nor forced the conversation. She had simply let Emma into her house and her life, and gratefully accepted anything the blonde was willing to give—like this moment of intimate contact that Emma had created as she warmed her toes under Regina’s leg.

They sat together quietly for perhaps ten minutes longer before Emma slid the ear buds from her ears and placed the tablet on the side table. She stretched languidly—something Regina tried not to look at as it exposed a sliver of pale skin on Emma’s abdomen—and focussed her eyes on Regina, who valiantly tried to keep reading. 

“Regina…?” The request was soft, and Regina followed the sound effortlessly to lips that were eternally tempting for her.

“Yes?” She asked, when a lightly arched eyebrow wasn’t enough to coax the blond into telling her what she was thinking.

“I uh… I have something to ask you…” Emma faltered a moment as she withdrew her feet so she could shift and sit up straighter. Regina held back a sigh at the loss, and instead nodded to encourage Emma.

“I’m going to visit my pa—Walter and Patrice on Monday. With the curse broken, they have, you know, remembered as well… how they lost their little girl? They’re confused and pretty freaked out. They miss me, though, and Henry.” Regina could sense where this was going and while it made her heart pound fearfully at the thought that Emma might never return home, she nodded.

“Of course, take him. I’m sure he would love to see them again.” Regina was happy to note she hid her broken heart and fearful thoughts very well in her voice.

“Actually… I wanted to ask you if… if maybe you would like to come with us…? I know…” a slight pause, Emma looked away. “…Henry would miss you if we were away for a while, and maybe it would be good if there was someone there to… explain this whole fairy tale thing better than I can.”

It was perfectly valid reasoning, Regina thought, but a part of her still felt that Henry was not the only one who would miss her if she did not come. The thought elated her beyond what she should allow herself at this point.

“Of course, Emma. I would love to accompany you.” She spoke genuinely. Spending time with Emma doing anything was good enough for Regina. She just wanted to be with the blonde, and having Henry there only made it better. The thought of facing the two people whose lives she had so blatantly interfered with, however, was something she looked forward to a lot less. How would she explain herself? Her past? She would just have to do it. For Emma—Emma who was smiling at her with a softness that made Regina’s heart melt and ache at the same time.

“Thanks…” Emma said softly, and Regina nodded.

“Any time.” She promised. Their eyes remained locked a moment longer, and Regina tried to read Emma’s emotions in her eyes. Was Emma allowing the love they obviously shared into her heart? Did she want to kiss her as much as Regina did her? She couldn’t find the answers, and she doubted even Emma had any clear cut answers at this point. It was Emma who broke their moment, clearing her throat as she threw her legs off of the couch and stood. 

“I uh… I guess I should get going. It’s late.” It was; it was a little past one AM. Regina hadn’t even realized time had passed so swiftly.

“Emma, I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but if you want, you can spend the night right here. I have a perfectly fine guestroom all made up, I have a clean toothbrush you can use, and I am sure there is something in my wardrobe that would suite your needs for the night. There really is no need to drive half way across town just to sleep before picking up Henry in the morning for your day out with him.” Regina pleaded gently. She saw the panic cross Emma’s eyes, and held her breath as Emma made up her mind about the proposition.

“Okay.” Emma eventually said as she exhaled. “Yeah, I guess it would make sense. Thank you.”

Regina opted for a neutral ‘you’re welcome’ as her reply and stood to find said toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste and a pair of her clean two-piece pyjamas. Emma followed her up the stairs with her tablet in hand, and watched her from the doorway of her bedroom, looking around curiously. Regina let her and did not comment; the last thing she wanted to do was scare off the flighty blonde.

“Here you go.” She said, handing the small package over. “This should do for tonight. The guestroom is over there. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll quickly clean up downstairs and turn in for the night as well.”

Emma nodded and smiled at her with a bit more confidence before traversing the distance to her assigned bedroom. Regina watched her go until the door closed behind her, and exhaled deeply, finally letting her pain at the situation at hand surface. Alright, this was a step. A small step, but still a step. Emma inviting her on a road trip to visit her parents? A far greater one. With that thought in mind, Regina allowed herself to smile before preparing her home for the night.

Regina did not see Emma the following morning. She had an early meeting with Snow who was her co-mayor in Storybrooke, and on the agenda were what to do with the Wicked Witch until the portal beans matured, Emma’s wellbeing and now the immanent road trip. Snow had taken easily to discovering Regina was Emma’s True Love; after a year in the enchanted Forest, Snow was well aware how deeply in love Regina was with her daughter. Yes, she had been surprised that Emma returned the feelings—something Emma herself had not admitted to, but the evidence spoke to quite clearly—but pleasantly so. Snow and Regina had gotten closer; close enough to wish each other the best, and so Regina felt free to share with Snow her deepest fears, her insecurities, and the pain she felt over Emma’s slow warming to her when her heart was ready to explode out of her chest with even the mention of the woman’s name. Snow tried to comfort her the best she could, but she had no other advice than what Regina already knew: give Emma time—all the time she needed.

Monday came quickly, and twice more Emma had made use of the guestroom. Regina had gotten Emma to share a bit about her adoptive—they had settled on that definition for the sake of convenience—parents with her. She discovered that they were simple folk, friendly and welcoming. Emma had memories of bringing friends home with her unannounced and her parents being welcoming towards them to the point of embarrassment. Walter had cried at the graduation she now remembered having, and Patrice made a really good apple crumble. They loved Henry, and they had adored Daniel. Emma spoke the last part with embarrassment, because she had realized that the memories she had of her late husband were at least partly inspired by Regina’s happy memories with her deceased boyfriend. Regina had tried to reassure her, that they were her memories now—just like the ones with Henry she had implanted in the blonde—and that neither her previous ownership of them, nor the fact that it had not been real, in any way negated their validity. She knew, though, that Emma was not convinced.

Emma had slept at the mansion on Sunday night, and they had cleared up the house together before ascending the stairs in silence. They had said goodbye at the top of the stairs and it had been a slightly charged exchange; the entire evening Regina had caught Emma stealing glances at her, observing her when she thought Regina wouldn’t see. Atop the staircase, Emma had observed her once more while Regina had wished her goodnight. Regina had waited until she couldn’t find a plausible reason to linger any longer. As she had turned away, Emma had stopped her with a quiet utterance of her name. Turning back, she had been surprised as Emma had stepped into her space and had searched her eyes a moment before quickly leaning in and pressing their lips together. Regina had let Emma take her moment, fighting not to draw her in deeper. It had been a chaste kiss, enough to experience each other’s lips, but it had still sent sparks down Regina’s spine. When Emma broke away, she had smiled shyly and then disappeared into the room with a quiet ‘goodnight’. Regina had found herself frozen on the spot for several long moments, tracing her lips with her fingers while she stared at the door, before she could find it in her to prepare for bed.

The next morning, the incident seemed to be forgotten, and Regina allowed it to be. She didn’t bring it up, letting Emma dictate the speed until she had caught up with Regina herself. The brunette had packed light; a small suitcase with clothes, toiletries and a few books, and Henry’s things stuffed in with them. Emma had assured her that her adoptive parents would provide anything she could need beyond what had been packed. They took Regina’s car as the Bug was still in New York City. Henry was excited; he hadn’t seen—what he considered to be—his grandparents in nearly two months and it was obvious he loved them. She learned much more about Walter and Patrice in the four hours it took to get to the airport in Boston than she had in the entire time she had been reunited with Emma and Henry. Regina had to admit she felt more at ease about the meeting now she had learned more about them, but she was still nervous—increasingly so the closer they got. 

By the time they reached Boston itself, Regina was fidgety and slightly irritable. She only noticed how she was pretty much cussing out the other drivers when she felt Emma’s hand on her leg, rubbing slow circles on the fabric of her most leisurely pair of pants. Regina’s eyes snapped down before flitting over to Emma, who was staring at her intently.

“It’s going to be okay… you can relax. They… they aren’t mad. They’re confused and a bit scared, but they have the daughter and grandson they otherwise never would have had. They just want to see us and try to understand.” Emma tried to explain. Regina nodded, taking a chance and dropping her hand to take a hold of Emma’s for a moment. Emma allowed her, but once she placed her hand back on the steering wheel, Emma withdrew her hand as well. Regina hid a sigh by coughing as Emma looked out of the window.

By the time the yellow cab pulled up to the modest house a good forty-five minutes from New York’s airport, Regina’s nerves had been drowned out by fatigue; it had been a long day. Even Henry’s enthusiasm had dwindled, although he had quite enjoyed flying again. It was Regina’s first time and she had enjoyed it much less than her son had. The only good thing about it was that Emma had felt compelled to hold her hand both during take-off and the landing. It had almost made the flight worth it. Almost.

As Regina stepped out of the back of the taxi, she observed the one story building with its faded mint green coat of paint and quaint front yard. It was nothing like Storybrooke; nothing here was. It seemed like a nice neighbourhood to have memories of, though, although—of course—the family had only moved here a little over a year ago. As Emma got out and paid the driver, Regina met Henry at the trunk of the car where he accepted Emma’s bag as she pulled the handle up from her own suitcase so she would be able to roll it along. Once she was done, she found Henry squinting at her. Arching an eyebrow at him, his face quickly settled into a cheesy grin.

“What is it, Henry?” She asked, slightly anxious.

“It’s weird. I have these memories of you, and I have these memories of being here, and they both feel—you know—real… but now you are here, I… now I think they are both _really_ real, you know. Not just in my head.” His young brain couldn’t formulate completely what he felt, Regina thought, but she understood regardless: by being here, she was joining his fake memories with his real ones, and it made it easier to cope with the conflicting stories. Smiling, she crouched down as she ruffled his hair. She shot him the smile she reserved only for him and he hugged her quickly before Emma came ‘round to the back of the car and observed the exchange.

“Ready to go in?” She asked, and Regina looked up at her, straightening out. She glanced at the house before slamming the trunk of the car shut. Swallowing down her thumping heart, she nodded with determination she was at least partly faking. In truth, she was petrified of speaking to yet more victims of her magic. It had been bad enough in the Enchanted Forest, but these were people Emma cared about—her would be in-laws of sorts—and she hated that she had hurt them.

“Let’s go.” She said with more enthusiasm than she felt, and wrapped an arm around Henry’s shoulders before taking the handle of the suitcase with the other. As the taxi drove off, Emma shouldered her bag and headed into the garden ahead of them, opening the wooden gate in the low fence. Around that time, the door opened to reveal a greying man with kind eyes and a calming posture, and a slightly chubby brunette with a megawatt smile and open arms, ready to accept a hug from Henry, who rushed across the path with a big grin on his face, Emma not far behind. As Henry flew into Patrice’s arms, Walter’s arms came up protectively around Emma’s shoulders, whispering something into her ear that had her hold on to him a little tighter. Regina had to look away a moment, hating that because of her—because of her plan—Emma and Henry knew that the people they remember so very well are not actually related to them. Furthermore, these two people had lost a daughter—again—and a grandson to boot.

“So, this is her, isn’t it? Regina?” Patrice’s voice drew her from her dark thoughts and Regina looked up, eyes wide as the woman with the mischievous eyes let go of Henry and took the few steps to bring her face to face with Regina. 

“It seems I have you to thank for giving me twenty-nine years of precious memories with the best daughter and grandson a woman could ever wish for—” Patrice said, her voice softening greatly as she cupped Regina’s face with both hands. Regina froze, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“Thank you, sweetheart, for the most precious gift anyone has ever given me. I remember now how I lost my little girl, but I also remember raising her, watching her grow up and fall in love. I remember being with her in the delivery room when she had her baby boy. Those are the memories I hold on to, and I would not have had them without you.” Patrice’s voice was fragile but strong in its love for Emma and Henry, and by the time strong arms wrapped around her for a hug as intense as any she’d ever had in her life, both were crying. For the second time in a few short weeks, a mother whispered ‘thank you’ into her hair, and Regina found herself instinctively clinging to the woman she had already made room for in her heart.

When Patrice finally let go of her, strong arms again enveloped her, and Regina—who let only those she truly loved and truly trusted touch her—accepted Walter as he pulled her in, holding her for a long moment without saying anything before releasing her and catching her eyes. She could see he was fighting tears, and she cried them for both of them. She nodded, and he returned the sign; they did not need words to convey gratitude and Regina felt herself so beyond shocked, she did not analyse the moment. She simply accepted that these people were not angry with her—were in fact grateful—and let herself be led into the Mitchell house as Emma watched her, green eyes swirling with emotion.

It was cosy inside, not large but spacious enough. The furniture was old—either because the couple had bought it new decades ago, or because they had gotten it second-hand after moving here—but functional and well put together. It was a far cry from her mansion but Regina didn’t need the luxury and killer design to be comfortable. Just like Emma subconsciously smiled and let her shoulders sag as she entered the house, Regina felt a desire to exhale and make herself comfortable. 

Regina hadn’t realized this going in, but it seemed that she would be spending the night in the same bed as Emma. The house only had one guest room and Henry’s room to spare for visitors. Henry would obviously sleep in his own bed. Emma was blushing when the two of them set down their luggage on the moderate double bed, and Regina studied her companion to see if this arrangement sat alright with her. She didn’t want to make Emma uncomfortable, but she secretly relished the thought of having Emma in her bed—even though it was going to drive her crazy lying so close to the blonde for two nights and not be allowed to touch her. It would be sweet torture, Regina realized, but when Emma nodded that she was, indeed, okay with the arrangement, Regina realized she was a glutton for punishment. 

By the time dinner rolled around, Regina felt more comfortable than she had felt in a long time. Emma was easier to be around when she was with Walter and Patrice—less conflicted—and she was more liberal with her physical affection. Walker and Patrice were the main recipients of her touch, with Henry a close second only because he divided his time between his moms. Even Regina was privy to the occasional brush of a hand in passing, or the casual meeting of limbs as they sat together on the well-worn couch. Regina noticed every touch, and although she tried to hide it, she was not unaffected. She longed for more of the blonde—after the miserable year-and-something of missing her so much she was in physical pain, having her so close but never close enough was becoming torture. She dealt with it, though, and instead of staying in the hot seat, she excused herself to help Patrice with the meatloaf preparations.

Patrice greeted her warmly in the kitchen, asking if she was comfortable enough and if they could do anything to make her more at ease, but Regina assured her she was perfectly alright. As Patrice cooked and Regina set out the table, Emma’s adoptive mother regarded her openly. Not used to this level of attention, Regina shifted somewhat uncomfortably, busying herself even more.

“So, Regina… I have seen the way you look at my daughter…” Patrice started, and even though Regina caught the note of amusement in the woman’s voice, she still jumped, turning to the woman in wide-eyed surprise.

“I-I don’t know wh—” Regina fumbled awkwardly—something she had not been in a long, long time—but Patrice shushed her.

“It’s quite alright, love.” Patrice assured, and Regina sighed.

“Is it that obvious?” Regina asked, defeated. Patrice smiled sympathetically at her.

“It is to a mother.” Patrice answered. “Has anything… happened between you two?”

“I-I’m not sure it’s my place to say anything.” Regina covered, almost dropping a fork as she busied herself again, feeling an uncomfortable and unwanted blush creep up to her features.

“I’m sure she won’t mind a little gossip. I take full responsibility.” Patrice assured jokingly, and Regina found herself grinning despite her situation. She surrendered to Patrice, aching to let her tortured feelings out.

“We… kissed. Twice. Once was when… when we broke the curse, I don’t know if she told you. True Love’s kiss. It was beyond anything I had imagined it would be, even though I had been dreaming of it for more than a year. She kissed me again… experimentally, perhaps, on Sunday. We have been getting more comfortable around each other, but it’s harder for her as she does not have a year of tortured waiting and frantic worrying behind her.” Regina confessed and while it felt like a razorblade to the skin, it was also freeing. Patrice nodded at her in sympathy.

“She told us that you had helped her break the… curse. She never said how it happened, exactly. Oh, don’t look so crestfallen; Emma is a sweetheart, and perhaps the Emma you knew was more open with her emotions, but I always had to hit mine over the head with hers before she even realized she had any. It’s not you, she was like that with Daniel as well. It took him months to win her heart.” Patrice assured her, and Regina sighed. She knew it had taken Daniel months; that’s how long it had taken her Daniel to win her over. Honestly, the thought of history repeating was not exactly reassuring.

“The Emma I knew,” Regina started. “Was the sweetest, most loving person I have ever met. She saw the good in me from the first moment—far before I saw it myself—but no, my Emma does not sound too different from yours. I am sure she would prefer to eat glass before confronting her emotions head-on.” Regina mused, a bit of sass coming back to her voice which she forced around the lump in her throat with great difficulty.

“We fought a lot, over Henry mostly. I don’t know what she told you but after she had given him up he came into my care. I was his mother until she came to Storybrooke and I did not take kindly to her interference in our lives. Henry grew to love her, though, and I learned what a beautiful human being she is and when I let her go—when I cast the curse that gave you your memories—I suddenly realized I had been in love with her from almost the very beginning, from the first time she opened herself up to me while we tried to save Henry who had found himself trapped in an old mine.” It was painful to admit all of this, but Patrice’s eyes were kind, and the arm she extended to take Regina’s hand was warm and comforting.

“Don’t give up on my daughter, she will come around. After twenty-nine year, I can read her pretty well, love, and I can see the way she looks at you, too. Just give her time.” Patrice implored and Regina looked down at their entwined hands. 

“I couldn’t let her go again, even if I tried.” Regina admitted, and Patrice squeezed her hand one last time for good measure before letting go to finish up the meal.

While the subjects of the Enchanted Forest, fairy tale characters, and magic had been studiously avoided so far, they were brought to the table over some of the best meatloaf—abide some of the only meatloaf—Regina had ever tasted. She shared her tale thoughtfully, wanting to provide an understandable and objective account of past events without overwhelming or alienating Emma’s adoptive parents. They interjected with the occasional question, but overall, they let her tell her tale without interruption. Both Henry and Emma were glued to her words, as neither of them had actually heard her version of the almost full account of her life and the curse that had created Storybrooke. It became easier to talk the further she got into the story, but infinitely harder once she got to the part after stopping Pan’s curse. She felt herself faltering more, stumbling over the pain and confusion still so fresh in her mind and she realized that she would have to revisit this part with the Mitchell’s afterwards if they really wanted to understand it. She couldn’t formulate the tale correctly with Emma and Henry so close.

By the time she was done, it was already late in the evening and they had moved on to tea and coffee in the living room. Emma went to tuck Henry in and Regina wrapped her hands tiredly around her cup, savouring the warmth and quiet comfort that radiated from it. Surprisingly, it was the quiet Walter who broke the silence.

“You haven’t had an easy life.” He sympathised, and she felt herself smile softly in recognition of the quiet support. “…and I won’t pretend that I’m not a bit shocked by it… but I believe what you have told us, and I admire you for the way you have turned your life around. My daughter and grandson are lucky to have you in their life, Regina. I truly think that. Thank you for sharing your story with us and helping us understand how all of this—remembering Emma when we never really had her—is possible.” 

Walter was not an easy speaker—and Regina doubted he spoke this emotionally often—but he was a speaker of truth. Regina accepted his words gratefully and shared a smile with the man she still outdid in age.

“Thank you.” She whispered softly. “Now if you will both excuse me, I should turn in. The flight and the evening have quite tired me out. Would you tell Emma?”

Both nodded and as Regina got up and set off down the hallway, the couple watched her go before sharing a long look meant to convey the broad scope of emotions that this entire situation invoked. 

Regina shut the room to the guest room behind her and dug her sleepwear out of the suitcase that she had installed on one of the two chairs in the room. Emma’s bag occupied the other and Regina assumed that this arrangement meant she had the right side of the bed tonight. She didn’t mind either way. She changed quickly, not wanting to confront Emma with her partial nudity, and brushed her hair and teeth before slipping under clean sheets that smelled so different than hers. The pillow felt odd under her head. Sighing, she tried to turn off the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that fluttered through her so she could fall asleep, but she knew it was useless. No matter how tired she was—how utterly exhausted—there was just so much to think about that her recounting of events had dragged up. 

Regina was not surprised that she was still wide awake when the door to the guestroom opened and a person she assumed to be Emma slipped inside. Lying facing away from the door, Regina couldn’t check the identity of the new arrival. She remained still because didn’t want to let the other woman know she was still awake; Emma still had to change. So Regina lay in the dark, eyes closed, listening to clothes sliding off of a body Regina could imagine painfully well. She listened as Emma fumbled around in her bag—obviously not having had the foresight to find her pyjama’s first—and curse softly as she could not find them. It took a minute more, perhaps, before she heard the rustling of clothes that indicated Emma was dressing in something again. Good, for a moment there, Regina had been afraid she would have the blonde in her bed without copious amounts of layers between them. She was quite sure she wouldn’t be able to deal with Emma’s bare skin at the moment.

The bathroom door closed, but she could still hear the sound of brushing and running water; the toilet flushed, and Emma washed her hands. A short time later, the door opened again and the bed dipped on Emma’s side. Regina exhaled slowly as a stilling figure settled a tantalizingly close distance from her back, and she suppressed the frustrated sigh that had tried to form out of an emotion somewhere between lust and love, and fuelled by both. Seconds ticked away before Emma shifted onto her back.

“Are you still awake…?” Emma asked quietly into the darkness. Regina debated with herself, but her desire for interaction with the blonde won out.

“Yes.” She answered softly, her voice betraying her emotional state. She refused to turn around or even move. It was easier to just lie in the dark, staring at the wall, and listen to Emma’s breathing.

“I uh… I wanted to thank you for tonight. For telling your story. It couldn’t have been easy and I know my parents appreciated it. Henry too… and me.” Emma’s voice was soft and equally emotional, Regina thought. Overcome by a desire to bring comfort to Emma, she turned over in her spot, lying on her side to observe Emma, who was staring up at the ceiling.

“You are very welcome.” She eventually answered. “They are good people and they mean a lot to you and Henry. They deserve to know.” 

Emma hummed in agreement, then turned her head to meet her eyes. Regina could feel Emma’s breath ghosting over her skin and savoured the minty sensation.

“I never thanked you for my memories…” Emma eventually whispered and Regina sighed.

“They are your memories now, Emma. You made them your own. It doesn’t matter that I had them first; Daniel, Henry growing up… those memories belong to you, and they are just as much a part of you as the ones the curse erased.” She pressed upon Emma again. Emma sighed.

“I gave him up, Regina. His father wasn’t the wonderful man I remember but Neal, who I loved in his own right, but who abandoned me when I—and Henry—needed him the most. I’m just… I’m not sure I can live with knowing who I really am.” Emma admitted, and Regina felt her heart tear at hearing the pain in Emma’s voice; the self-hate.

“Emma, will you please listen to me?” Her eyes sought Emma’s as her hand covered that of the blonde over the blankets. 

“I know you, and you are strong, passionate, caring and most of all, brave. The Emma you were made bad decisions born of a difficult life. I know something about that, as you well know.” Emma smiled at the blatant quip to make her feel better.

“Yeah, I know.” Emma admitted with the barest hint of humour.

“You came back for Henry, you overcame your past, you—” Regina stopped herself, realizing she was about to put her feelings for the blonde into words and Emma wasn’t ready for that. She did not want to hear about True Love, about Regina’s vow to wait for her, about the way Regina’s heart pounded in her chest every time she laid eyes on the blonde. Emma needed a friend.

“I, what?” Emma asked, and when Regina did not answer and only broke eye-contact, Emma shifted so she was propped up on an elbow, looking down at Regina who was drawn back to Emma’s eyes. The blonde was still so close, and Regina wanted nothing more than to confess her love and fall into her body. 

“I, what, Regina?” Emma pressed, and this time the confusion and hint of desperation were clear in Emma’s voice, her eyes becoming watery as she looked down into emotive black. Regina threw caution to the wind; there was only so much self-control she could muster.

“You have someone who loves you, very, very, much… who would do anything to see you happy, and lift the burden of your pain for you—someone who feels terrible for taking away your happy ending but who is willing to do everything she can to give you a new one, something that will hopefully bring you the peace and happiness she wants you to have so badly.” Regina admitted, her voice fracturing along the way as she fought the tears that threatened to spill. Emma regarded her a moment more and Regina watched a single tear streak down over skin she ached to touch.

When Emma brought their lips together, Regina was anticipating it. She met her lips willingly, sighing into the kiss, and let her hands wrap into tumbling hair as she let Emma push her down onto her back. Emma pressed closer to her, and traced her lips with her tongue, gently urging Regina to part them and give her entrance into the depths below. Regina complied with a soft moan as her senses became invaded by the touch, the taste, the smell, and the feel of the woman she loved so very much. Her eyes had slipped close a she savoured the long, blissful, moments of the languid kiss. It was a perfect kiss, slow and torturous, and it left a deep longing in Regina once Emma pulled back, hovering just inches above Regina’s parted lips. Emma’s breath was uneven and she knew that their kiss had evoked emotions in Emma as well—not just her.

“Good night, Regina…” Emma whispered onto her lips, and Regina smiled.

“Good night, Emma.” She answered, just as quietly, and let Emma roll off of her and turn away in the darkness. Settling herself, she smiled as she revelled in the memory of the kiss, and drifted off with it playing on repeat before her mind’s eye.

The next day, Emma did not speak of the kiss at all, but as she joined in late for breakfast, Regina received a smile and a gentle brush of a hand over her shoulder. It was enough. Henry was gone most of the day, catching up with friends he had made in the neighbourhood, and Walter—who worked as a plumber—was gone most of the day as well. While Emma spent most of the day lazying about the house, Regina joined Patrice in the back garden for some weeding and general maintenance. 

Regina found herself taking a great liking to the woman; she had a knack for making Regina feel comfortable and a sense of humour that connected well. She also had the gift of making hard subjects bearable to talk about and while Emma was once more engrossed in some show playing on her tablet as she lay stretched out on a deck chair, Regina spoke more openly about her year in the Enchanted Forest as she nursed the neglected garden under her hands back to health. Whenever she faltered, Patrice asked a question that prompted a new story, or encouraged her to dig deeper into the one she was already sharing. By the end of the afternoon, she realized she had all but bared her soul to the motherly figure kneeling patiently next to her on a gardening mat. It was an odd sensation, but not an unpleasant one—quite the opposite, in fact.

The Mitchell family was into board games as an evening past time, Regina discovered, and so she ended up playing scrabble for the first time in her life and enjoying herself very much. Teaming up with Henry, she quickly grasped the rules of the game and helped her son make the smartest combinations on the board. They won the game with a ten point margin, and Henry was so excited, she had to read him two chapters of Harry Potter before he finally settled down to sleep. He was getting too old to be read to, she mused, but he enjoyed it so and she had to admit she had missed doing it.

By the time she returned to the living room, Emma’s parents had seen themselves to bed. Emma was waiting up for her, though, and patted the couch next to her. Regina took her seat happily, and smiled to cover her surprise as Emma settled into her side. To make the position comfortable, Regina had to wrap her arm around Emma’s shoulder and she felt her heart pound in her chest when Emma allowed her. The blonde settled into her and invited her to watch an episode of Continuum with her. Regina had never even heard of the show, but Emma assured her she would explain if Regina did not understand something. Happily, Regina agreed and Emma unplugged the headset so the sound now emerged from the speakers.

Regina didn’t understand a single thing about the series—not even with Emma’s commentary—but she marvelled in the way Emma spoke animatedly about the female protagonist and her time traveling adventures and spent most of the span of the episode analysing the scent of Emma’s hair and the way she fitted into her body so very well. This intimate embrace was the closest she had been to Emma for any sustained period of time and Regina found herself addicted. 

When the episode ended, Emma lay down the tablet, but stayed in Regina’s arms. Regina had not stopped her hand from drawing small patterns on Emma’s upper arm—the only part of her she could easily reach—and it seemed to settle Emma. Hopefully, Regina mused, Emma was equally hesitant to break this moment between them; it felt good and comfortable. Without anything to distract them, however, the moment soon stretched thin, and Emma stirred, untangling herself and getting up.

“Ready to go to bed?” She asked, and Regina squinted a little at the layered message that these words presented her with due to the tonality Emma had used. She nodded. Whatever Emma had meant, she was up for it.

Emma changed in the bathroom and settled under the covers while Regina wrapped up her day. Looking in the mirror, Regina hardly recognised the ball of nerves staring back at her. This whole thing with Emma, sharing herself so openly with her parents, being away from Storybrooke—it had changed her. A year of soul searching in the Enchanted Forest had also had a huge impact on her, she realized, and she found it hard to reconcile the woman who had been so unaware of her love with the woman she saw now. Sighing, she ran a shaking hand through her hair and reached to switch off the lights. A few more moments in the darkness settled her enough to join Emma in bed.

They lay side by side for a quiet moment, and again Emma broke the silence, her voice unreadable.

“I heard you talking to Patrice today… about your year in the Kingdom…?” She admitted. Regina held her breath. 

“I was switching episodes when I heard what you were talking about and decided not to start a new one. I’m sorry you went through that and… you know… what you went through since then.” It was obvious Emma was not talking about the war here—this was about missing Emma, realizing her love for her, and about dying to be with Henry again. Unsure if this was something Regina should—could—reply to, she waited, eyes on the ceiling, forcing her breath to come out soft and rhythmically.

“I enjoyed kissing you last night.” Emma finally admitted, and Regina could hear her head turning. Copying the movement, she turned her head so she could meet Emma’s eyes.

“I enjoyed that very much, too.” She said softly, smiling as her heart fluttered desperately. They were silent a moment before Regina took a deep breath.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance, Emma, give you time…” she said softly, and Emma looked away a painful moment. “I hope you will forgive me for expressing this, but I enjoy all of your touches, I enjoy all of you. When you are near me… all I want is to reach out to you. Obviously I desire you, but more than that, I want to _be there_ for you… and sometimes it’s really hard not to reach out to massage your shoulders when I see you are hurting, or warm you when you are cold. I have been thinking about you and Henry, and my life without you, for more than a year and I thought it would consume me. I have never loved, and I will never love, anyone else the way I do you—and I am sorry if this frightens you but I can’t keep holding this in. We’ll be home tomorrow and we can go back to spending less time, sleeping separately, to being friends, but before we do… I just need you to hear this. Hear I’m in this for the long haul, that if you are willing to give me the chance, I will fight for you, or woe you, or just give you time. I love you, Emma, with all that I am, and even if you never—even then, I will be yours.”

She felt the tears stinging behind her eyes as she watched Emma take in her declaration, her eyes still not meeting hers. She resolved herself to the fact that Emma wasn’t going to answer her when Emma opened her mouth, eyes fluttering back to her, an ocean of emotions.

“I don’t know how to love very well…” Emma said, inadvertently echoing Regina’s words, spoken so long ago. “…and this whole thing has been so… confusing… and I couldn’t—can’t—really deal with all of this, this True Love thing between us.”

Regina closed her eyes a moment, feeling her heart crush into a million little pieces. Emma’s hand on her cheek brought her back to the present.

“I hate that I make you unhappy.” She said softly, and Regina reached up to mirror the hold Emma had on her.

“You never make me unhappy.” She promised. “I really do understand.” She added, and she meant it. Time, she told herself again. Emma needed time, not declarations of love and the pressure she was putting on her now.

“I hope you do, because I’m not saying no… I just… I can’t give you… that whole package thing you need. Not right now…” Emma answered her, and Regina nodded. Emma’s arm withdrew and slid back under the blankets, and as Emma rolled to her side, Regina slid back her hand as well, breaking contact. Glancing up at the ceiling—deep in thought—she startled when she felt a warm hand traverse the expense of her abdomen.

“Emma?” she asked as her breath hitched. What was she doing? The blonde stared at her intently as her hand slid lower, pushing against the waistband of her bottoms.

“Emma, what are you…?” Regina quickly reached down to stop the hand from moving as determined fingers brushed against the edge of her panties. Emma refused to look away as Regina met her eyes, but she also didn’t answer her. Instead, Emma leaned forward and brushed her lips over Regina’s—Regina froze. The mixed signals Emma was sending out were making her hesitant to do anything but cling to the hand still so close to her core. Again, Emma’s lips brushed over hers, and again, Regina refused to react. First, Emma had asked for time and had turned down her desire to be closer to the blonde, but now she was ready to touch her—down there, intimately? Regina couldn’t keep up.

“Emma, please, talk to me. You don’t have to do this, I don’t need… I don’t need you to touch me out of sympathy or remorse. I can control my needs.” Regina’s voice turned angry against insisting lips.

“That’s not… I just…” Emma’s breath once more ghosted over her lips and not even Regina’s anger and humiliation were enough to quench the desire in her. She had been bluffing to Emma, she knew, because she really did need her—but not at the expense of their future.

“Please…?” Emma whispered against her lips, before placing a butterfly kiss onto them. Regina doubted Emma had any idea what she was feeling now, but her lips were soft against her, and short nails scratched at her sensitive skin deliciously and she had been longing for this for so long… she felt her resolve waning in light of Emma’s plea, and slowly, she let go of Emma’s hand. Now freed, it slid down again, down coarse, trimmed, curls, and between slick folds. Regina gasped, and Emma moaned against her, closing the distance as she took advantage of the situation and slid her tongue into Regina’s mouth. As inexperienced fingers tried to find their bearing, Regina slid a hand in Emma’s hair to pull her closer as their tongues met, and used the other to guide Emma to her clitoris.

Clearly, Regina had never imagined that her first time with Emma would be this; teenage fumbling in the dark while Emma’s parents slept on the other side of the wall, but here she was. As Emma grew bolder, Regina grew wetter, soon letting go of Emma’s hand because she was finding her way just fine. She wasn’t sure if Emma’s monotonous rubbing would have been enough to push her over the edge under different circumstances, but with fourteen months of fantasies backing the experience, Regina didn’t take long to reach climax. She let Emma overtake her, let her kiss her deeply to silence her as Regina came, and sighed when Emma only slowed the motions of her hand when Regina covered her hand again and pressed it flat against her sex. They kissed once more, deeply, before Emma pulled away, eyes full of confused emotions but with a smile on her swollen lips.

Regina lay quietly in the dark for a long time after Emma pulled away from her with a last peck on her lips and a whispered ‘goodnight’. She wasn’t sure if what had just happened was a good or a bad thing, but it had happened; they were just going to have to deal with it tomorrow. Her body was tingling, basking in the afterglow of a short but sweet orgasm that Emma had coaxed from her, and Regina couldn’t really regret what had happened now. She turned her head to look at Emma’s soft curls stretched out on the pillow, and smiled as her love for the woman manifested tenfold in the aftermath of this new development.

Breakfast came with a smile, but no brushing of Emma’s hand, so Regina figured they were about fifty percent alright after last night. It didn’t quite settle the nerves in her stomach, but she tried to eat through the oatmeal that had suddenly turned into sticky sawdust without outwardly showing her discomfort. She sighed when she felt Patrice’s eyes on her, and realized she was not exactly getting away with hiding anything anymore. 

When she slipped into her shared bedroom where Regina begun the Tetris game of the century—fitting all her and Henry’s items back into the suitcase now they had been worn and had somehow multiplied—she was soon joined by a second person, who closed the door behind them. Slightly irritable at Emma for last night and the uncertainty she felt, she refused to look up from her task in the far corner as she spoke.

“I don’t think I’m up for a round of processing before your parents take us to the airport.” She bit out, but the venom did not even come close to the venom the Queen could spew; this was laced with pain and insecurity, and she realized that Emma had her completely bewitched.

“I’m not Emma.”

Patrice’s voice was soft and sympathetic, and as Regina whirled around with wide eyes, she smiled and patted a spot on the bed next to her in a clear invitation for a talk and some comfort. Regina regarded her. A few days ago, she had never laid eyes on the brunette and now she was contemplating rehashing last night’s encounter with her. Life had a weird way of coming full circle, she mused; she had given Emma these parents to give her her happy ending, but in fighting for a happy ending for them both, Regina seemed to have inherited Patrice and Walter as well. She sat with a sigh and buried her hands in her hair. A hand fell lightly on her back to rub circles.

“What happened last night?” Patrice asked without pushing.

“You really should talk to Emma about this.” Regina tried one more time from the comfort of her hands, but Patrice made a huffing sound that made Regina smile despite herself. 

“Talk to Emma when she’s this tense? You must be joking. She’s getting gas for the car with Walter and Henry, we have a bit of time. Besides, you are the one with the big feelings and you are obviously struggling. I like you, Regina, and I would very much like to see you walk down the aisle with my daughter one day, so why don’t you open up to your future mother-in-law and tell me what happened.” Patrice confided, and Regina lifted her head up from her hands to look gratefully at the woman next to her. Patting her leg lightly, Regina took a deep breath.

“Honestly? I don’t know what happened. She told me she had overheard us in the garden and I think it touched her to know I am struggling with my feelings for her, but then she said she needed time and couldn’t give me what I wanted, not the ‘full True Love package’, anyway,” Regina made air quotes around the offending words. “And then… then she… touched me. I told her she didn’t have to but she said please and… I gave into her. When I was done, she said goodnight and went to sleep and this morning she was upset, and now I think I did the wrong thing in letting her touch me last night.” 

This was a mortifyingly embarrassing talk, Regina realized, but Patrice didn’t look at her oddly, just smiled a little at the blush that flushed Regina’s tinted skin and the amount of ‘and’ in that run-on sentence before shifting back to serious. She listened quietly, and then placed a heavy hand on Regina’s leg.

“You didn’t do the wrong thing. I know I said this before but you are going to have to give her time. She will work it out. She’s probably dealing with the emotions that _she_ felt during your encounter; thinking of Daniel perhaps. I doubt she minds that you are both women—we raised her better than that—so don’t even go there, love.” Regina knew it wasn’t a sexuality thing, but it was still good to hear confirmed.

“I know… thank you, for… everything.” Regina said, meeting Patrice’s kind eyes. A thought came to Regina and she hurried to get it out before she lost the nerve.

“Would you like to come stay with us, perhaps? Some time soon? I would like to show you and Walter Storybrooke, and you could see the house Henry grew up in. It would be after the beans ripen and the Wicked Witch is sent home for incarceration, but after that?” As soon as she said it, she realized she really wanted them to visit; it wasn’t an invite she extended lightly but she had taken a liking to the couple and she knew it would bring joy to Emma and Henry.

“We would love to visit Storybrooke. Just let us know and we’ll arrange things so Walter has a few days off of work.” Patrice answered and they shared a smile. “Alright, I shall let you pack. Don’t you give up on my daughter, Regina, she’ll come ‘round.” 

Regina chuckled at the prophesizing way Patrice said the words and nodded. She wouldn’t give up; of course she wouldn’t. The words strengthened her, though, and she felt far better equipped to handle the return journey home. Patrice left her to her packing and she was done just in time for Emma, Henry, and Walter to return home. She had even packed Emma’s bag, hoping she was allowed to take that liberty. Emma didn’t mind; she even gave her a genuine smile for her considerate actions and then hoisted both the bag and Regina’s suitcase to the car. Figuring it was a way for Emma to show she cared, she let the blonde carry the heavy luggage as she trailed behind her. On the back seat, with Henry pressed between them, Regina smiled as her son, Emma, and Walter and Patrice exchanged stories of road trips taken together in the past. It was good to hear Emma embrace the false memories that were now a part of her life, and Regina hoped she continued to do so—even over her real ones. The new ones obviously brought more joy and peace to her.

They said goodbye at the airport and Regina found it hard to let go of Patrice when she embraced her. It was no secret that Regina had spent many years wishing for a mother, and she recognised that longing again as she turned away towards the terminal, leaving Emma’s adoptive parents in the large hall. Emma and Henry were equally lost in thought as they waited for their flight to board.

Once more, Regina did not enjoy flying, and she was very happy to have her feet back on solid ground. She enjoyed this world with its indoor plumbing and cell phone reception, but these metal crates that somehow stayed in the air made her uncomfortable. Emma had held her hand again, however, and after this morning’s scare, it was an even more comforting sensation.

They made it home around dinner time and Regina was happy to see the ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’ welcome sign. As they drove the last few miles through the woods, Regina looked over at her passenger, who had spent most of the time either entertaining Henry or looking out. Regina had picked Emma up at her parents’ on Sunday so the sheriff’s car she had been using to get around would be available to David, which meant that Regina now had to ask where they were going; Emma’s house to drop her off, or Regina’s mansion.

“Emma? Would you like me to drive you straight home or will you come with us for dinner or…?” Regina trailed off, unsure how to proceed with that sentence if she did not want it to end in ‘spend the night’. Emma regarded her a moment.

“I think I’ll join you for a while.” She said, and Regina thought—hoped—there was more to the words than their basic meaning. Nodding with a smile, she turned her eyes back to the road and headed to the mansion.

Dinner was a simple affair of re-heated lasagne and a Summer Salad, but it was tasty enough. Regina did the minimal dishes while listening to the screaming of Emma and Henry as they played one of Henry’s XBox games. It was such a pleasantly normal sound that she wished she could hear it every day. She was getting ahead of herself again, she knew, but she didn’t want Emma to leave. She just wanted her to stay with her—indefinitely. Quenching these thoughts by putting a little more effort into her cleaning, Regina tried to force her emotions down to the point where they no longer threatened to choke her. 

“Hey, Regina?”

Emma’s voice startled her, and she whirled around to the sound of Emma’s voice, locating the source as it peeking around the corner of the door to the kitchen.

“Yes?” Regina asked, realizing she was showing her surprise but unwilling to change her expression into neutral.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll crash here tonight. It’s easier, you know, and you wouldn’t have to drive me back.” Emma said casually, and Regina fought her smile.

“Of course, you are always welcome here.” She answered, feeling the need to establish that fact between them. Emma licked her lips and nodded.

“Thanks. I’m going to take Henry to bed. You know, I think he’s just using us as audio books because he’s too lazy to hold up the book himself.” Emma joked, and Regina grinned.

“The thought had crossed my mind as well.” She agreed kindly, and the two shared knowing mommy smiles before Emma disappeared and wrangled Henry to bed. Regina took out and uncapped a beer for Emma and poured herself a glass of wine. Along with a few pieces of dried fruit, she took the drinks into the den to wait for Emma.

Regina observed the blonde as she came down and smiled wistfully at her beauty. She had her hair in a lazy ponytail, and was dressed in tight jeans and one of the fancy blouses that the new Emma owned. Regina had to admit that her fashion sense had certainly improved due to Regina’s implanted memories. Her slight tough girl stance and cocky smirk were all old Emma, though, and Regina remembered charged arguments and heated glances that had set her insides ablaze. At least Emma still had _that_ effect on her. 

“Our son is addicted to Harry Potter.” Emma announced as she took her beer and swigged it from the bottle before moving to the fire, and Regina chuckled lightly. She couldn’t help but observe Emma as she stood silhouetted against the slowly dying blaze, shadows accenting her face and bringing out her eyes even more. Regina felt herself swooning and tried not to. How often had she imagined Emma with her, especially in the Enchanted Kingdom? For her to be here now was beyond Regina’s wildest dreams—even with the muddled mess their relationship was.

“That he is,” Regina agreed, sipping her wine to cover her emotions before putting the glass down. “…and we indulge him.”

Emma laughed at that and shook her head as she took another swig before setting the bottle back down on the table on her way to the couch. She sat facing Regina and the brunette couldn’t help but enjoy the way Emma’s gaze lingered on her. Some of Emma’s old confidence had returned along with her willingness to engage in playful banter and it was greatly uplifting. 

“I think my parents like you.” Emma said with a grin, and Regina mirrored it.

“I believe they do, and I like them as well. I extended an invitation to them to visit Storybrooke after the Witch has been transported back to Oz. I hope you don’t mind?” Regina answered easily.

“No, that would be great. We would have to have them over here, though, or at Granny’s if you don’t want to; there really isn’t room with my parents.” Emma said, automatically assuming that the doubly used term ‘parents’ did not confuse Regina. It didn’t.

“Of course they can stay here; I had not even thought of having them put up at Granny’s. Like you, your parents are always welcome.” Regina said, not stopping herself when the need to give Emma’s hand a short squeeze overtook her. Emma smiled when their hands touched, and met her eyes. As Regina tried to pull away, Emma gripped her lightly. The atmosphere suddenly became charged and Regina was aware of Emma’s closeness, of the way she studied her eyes, then dropped her gaze to her lips. When Emma’s eyes met hers again, Regina licked her lips and smiled lightly. Emma returned her smile and Regina shut off her brain; she didn’t want to consider that it was a bad idea to initiate a kiss as she leaned forward. Emma didn’t stop her when she brushed lightly over her lips, and she didn’t stop her either when Regina’s hand slid against her neck and deepened the kiss. 

Their tongues met lightly at first, but she felt Emma pull her closer by her blouse and before she knew it, they were panting into each other’s mouths and Regina was leaning precariously forward. She couldn’t stop herself when Emma leaned back onto the couch and pulled Regina on top of her, and Regina did not want to. She took the moment and kissed Emma deeply, sliding her hand over Emma’s side to brush the side of her breast with her thumb. Emma hissed, and Regina smirked into the kiss, nibbling lightly on Emma’s bottom lip. Her head was swimming in sensation—at the marvel that touching Emma was—and she drank from the experience like it was an exquisite wine; savouring the experience but feeling the need for a new sip every time the old vanished.

Emma threw her head back, tilting her head over the armrest as Regina slid lower to tease her neck, suckling sensitive skin and feeling Emma guide her, teaching her about her body. Regina listened, applying gentle nibs and long swirls to the areas she was directed to and she relished in the feel of Emma bucking under her. Returning to Emma's mouth, Regina experimentally let her hand connect fully with Emma's breast, groaning into the touch and Emma's blissful sigh. She wondered if Emma had been with anyone in their year apart, but forced the thought from her mind as she felt jealousy rise up like bile in her throat. Emma was here now, with her, and she let her touch her in the way Regina had been dying to for so long now.

Applying more pressure to the soft flesh separated from the skin of her hand by only the barest layers of clothing, she could feel Emma's nipple harden under her hand, and felt her heart soar at her ability to cause this in her young lover. Her mind returned to the endless kiss she was sharing with Emma as two hands wrapped in her hair and crushed their mouths together. Shifting slightly, she relinquished her hold on Emma's breast and slid the hand up to cup her by the back of the neck to deepen their kiss—if that was even possible. Arranging their legs, she pressed a thigh between Emma's and was overcome by a moan that was torn from Emma's throat. The woman's head moved back and eyes flew open as she was released enough to pull back and look down, inspecting the beauty below her. She could feel Emma's desire but was still worried about pushing her into anything she wasn't ready for, and she couldn’t in good conscious continue without addressing the sudden escalation of their relationship. Emma tried to surge up and capture her lips, but Regina pressed her back down gently.

“Emma, wait. Please, wait.” Regina tried to catch her breath as Emma’s body stilled, looking up at her with darkened eyes and parted lips—panting as well.

“What is it? I thought we were… I thought you were enjoying yourself?” Emma whispered into the inches between them. Regina chuckled, and pressed a light kiss to Emma’s lips as she tried to keep her weight off of the woman below her while still remaining locked together.

“My dear, I have never enjoyed anything more in my life than this moment with you, but I do not want to push you. I just… I need you to be sure.” Regina answered, running her fingers over Emma’s cheek and watching as Emma turned her head to kiss them.

“I’m _not_ sure… not entirely. All I know is that right now, you feel really good and I don’t want to stop. Look, Regina… it’s obvious I… love you; our True Love’s kiss broke two curses for God sakes! I’m not stupid, I understand how this works… but…” Emma took a deep breath, their eyes meeting as Regina swallowed her emotions over hearing Emma admit to loving her.

“…but I am still getting used to being me, being Emma. I don’t even know what I should use as my last name; I have memories of nearly thirty years being ‘Swan’, and nearly thirty years of being ‘Mitchell’. How do I decide between that? How do I sort out what I keep and what I throw out? So no, I’m not sure about tomorrow and how I fit in your life; I have no idea how I even fit into mine. You can have me tonight, though? And probably tomorrow, and if you’re really lucky the day after that. I just can’t make you any promises right now because for all I know you won’t even like the me I turn out to become. So, is that okay? Because I really want to do this and for it to be less messed up than yesterday…” Emma’s voice was fragile, but laced with an undercurrent of humour and lightness that came from her new memories; her Mitchell-side. Regina absorbed the flood of words that tumbled from Emma’s lips and smiled, dipping her head to press another soft kiss on Emma’s lips.

Sliding herself carefully off of Emma, she watched as confusion slipped onto the blonde’s face. Regina smiled as she let her desire for Emma come to the surface, let what had just happened between them darken her eyes, and when she reached out her hand, Emma took it right away, letting Regina pull her up and flush against her. With two hand cupping the side of Emma’s face, Regina kissed her deeply as Emma slipped her hands up over the underside of her shirt with clear intent to connect. As they stumbled up the stairs—leaving the fire to slowly die out—Regina marvelled at Emma’s ability to dazzle her, to make her forget about anything but heated skin under her fingertips. 

Emma kicked the door to Regina’s bedroom closed behind her without second glance, pulling at Regina’s blouse to get her to take it off. They broke apart to undo layers of clothes as they regarded each other, refusing to give up that last connection between them. Their eyes had always linked them, Regina realized, and as they came together, she substituted it by sliding her hands over the deliciously exposed skin of Emma’s back. Turning them around, she pushed against Emma to sit her down on the bed, finally letting months of fantasies come to the surface. The first thing she did was slide her mouth down to capture an already pebbled nipple. She moaned around the soft flesh as Emma pushed her harder into her, gasping as her head fell back. It felt—tasted—better than she could have imagine, Regina realized, and she sank to her knees between Emma’s legs, running her hands over jeans-covered legs before sliding up Emma’s sides and holding her steady as she switched to the other breast, savouring this one as she delayed her arrival as much as she could stand. She was amused—and more than a little aroused—to find out that Emma’s willingness to indulge her was shorter than her own will to deprive herself; Emma tugged impatiently on her hair to get her to finally take possession of the second nipple and Regina did as instructed, sucking it roughly into her mouth and flicking her tongue over it.

Emma was slowly becoming undone under her mouth and although this—making love to a woman, worshipping her body—was new to Regina as well, she had no doubt that she would be able to bring pleasure to Emma. She had envisioned every scenario, had let her hands wander over her own body in a desire to have it be Emma’s instead. She knew how to do this, and every moan, every sharp tug on her hair, every shudder in Emma’s body, empowered her further. Emma’s hands slid lower, down over her unclad back, and drew up again with sharp nails that made Regina groan and bite down lightly on solid flesh. Emma gasped and nails sunk into her back. Regina let go of her prize before surging up, capturing Emma’s lips in a kiss that was bruising and wet, and a lot less coordinated than before. 

“I’ve wanted to feel you for so long…” She admitted before claiming the lips below her again, and Emma moaned, wrapping arms around Regina to pull her up and on top of her. This time, Regina’s leg pressed between hers right away, pressing down rhythmically, and Emma pushed up into her with every thrust as her own leg came up to provide the same pressure and hands slid to Regina’s ass to push her down harder. It was heaven—sloppy, real, somewhat messy, heaven. Emma’s ponytail had come undone, leaving her face framed with beautiful curls that Regina wrapped hands into as she held herself up on her elbows, snorting in amusement as Emma yelped in pain by a yank on a lock of hair that had gotten caught under Regina’s elbow. They smiled at each other as Regina massaged Emma’s scalp and pressed a loving kiss to Emma’s lips, her hips slowing slightly at the intimacy of the moment.

“Sorry…” She murmured, but Emma’s hands were tugging at her hips and the blonde obviously did not care, so why should she? Trailing a line of kisses and licks down to Emma’s breasts again, she let the blonde move her as she suckled and licked, and applied delicious pressure upon the addictive flesh. She could stay like this forever, she realized, but Emma bucked her hips into her belly, and Regina became distracted. She let her mouth wander further down and as she looked up to find Emma look down at her with hooded and darkened eyes, she popped the button of Emma’s jeans and slid the zipper down. It was just a sharp tug now to rid Emma of her jeans and underwear, and Regina did so, taking Emma’s socks with her in one motion. Emma smirked at her, obviously praising her smoothness. Regina grinned as she settled atop Emma again, not caring that her pants would stain as she pressed back into the blonde below her. She didn’t care about anything but providing pleasure, and getting pleasure in return.

They kissed again, more hungrily, with harder bites and wandering hands, and Regina recaptured Emma’s breast with her hand, massaging the flesh roughly before pinching her nipple. Emma gasped against her and involuntarily bucked up.

“Fuck! Regina!” Emma’s voice cut through the atmosphere of pants and moans, and Regina felt some of her old, sassy, self returning, slowing her motions to where she was deliberately teasing Emma with both her hands and her leg. Emma was clawing at her now, moaning against her lips, then into the crook of her neck as Regina lowered herself so she could lick at Emma’s ear. Emma shuddered and tried to get her to move faster, but Regina wasn’t having any of it. Dipping her head, she instead flicked her tongue over the expanse of Emma’s neck and suckled soft flesh as Emma gasped and sank nails into her ass—an intrusion she could feel quite well even though she was still wearing her slacks. She rewarded Emma with a moan, and added a muffled cry when Emma bit down on her shoulder. The spike of arousal that coursed through her was blinding, and she had to restrain herself from taking Emma right there and then. Emma’s tongue soothed the bite, and only served to increase her arousal. It seemed Emma was no longer content in being a passive party. Regina smiled as she lifted herself up onto her hands—careful with Emma’s hair this time—and scooted upwards so she could lower one of her nipples against Emma’s lips. Emma—who had her eyes closed—took a moment to adjust but then reached up to seize it. Regina didn’t let her, pulling her breast just out of Emma’s reach. Emma huffed as her eyes flew open and Regina laughed as Emma squinted angrily before pulling her down with both hands so she could suckle Regina’s nipple; the laugh died on her lips instantly and was replaced by a drawn out moan.

This time it was Regina who cursed.

Regina didn’t know if Emma had been thinking about them together like this, but there seemed to be some tricks the blonde wanted to try out, and it didn’t take Emma long to make Regina’s arms quiver as she tried to hold herself up. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, and the dull throbbing that came with it was slowly turning into an ache she desperately needed to sooth. With a strength of will she had to fight for, she pulled herself out of Emma’s reach and lowered herself to kiss Emma deeply again, drowning in the arms that came up to cling to her protectively as she did so. Again, Regina sat up, but this time she undid her slacks, smiling as Emma sat with her, laying her hands over hers and taking over while they looked at each other, coming to grips with what was happening, with this new level of intimacy, with the realization that this—fuck, this, all of this—was what True Love felt like. There was nothing that felt this good, this right, and that was all that mattered. They were making the best of the mechanics, and so far it did not seem like either of them was disappointed. 

Shifting, Regina ridded herself of the last of her clothing, and smiled when Emma’s hands reverently slid up over the outside of her thighs, over her hips and up her belly before slipping to her back and pulling her in for another kiss. This time when they came together, their legs intertwined easily and Regina hissed as she felt warm wetness coating her thigh. Emma’s eyes darkened even more than they already had when she lowered herself onto Emma’s leg.

“You’re so wet…” Emma marvelled and Regina blushed, dipping her head for a soft peck on Emma’s lips. 

“I have been thinking about this—about you—a lot. To have it finally happening…” Regina explained and Emma smiled up at her lovingly. 

“True Love, huh?” Emma asked as they moved against each other softly.

“It appears so, dear.” Regina mused, and steadied herself with one arm while she brushed a lock of hair from Emma’s forehead. 

“I think I like it.” Emma admitted cheekily, and Regina grinned before bringing their mouths together again. She would never, ever, tire of kissing the woman below her. This time, the kiss was more gentle, less driven by need and more by the love Emma was apparently allowing herself to feel. Regina was elated, but as Emma’s leg pressed harder against her, she also remembered she was very, very, aroused. She escalated the kiss again, grinding down to make Emma gasp and meet her lips with passion once more. Again, Emma’s hands slid down to her ass to push her down harder, and Regina supported her own weight the best she could as she pushed their bodies together. They were panting now, moving—simply moving—until she felt Emma’s hand dip between them to tease her sensitive clit. Regina almost sagged through her arms at the contact, and Emma chuckled.

“Like that, don’t you…?” She teased, and Regina hissed out a quiet ‘yes…’ as she, too, slid a hand between them. Emma didn’t fare any better, really, and that gave Regina immense satisfaction. She was slowly becoming addicted to the sounds that spilled from Emma’s lips.

Again, Regina escalated their lovemaking; sliding her fingers down through delicious wetness, she lifted herself slightly so she could press a single digit slowly into Emma. She watched in wonderment as Emma strained against her, her breath failing as her eyes fluttered shut. It was the single sexiest and most beautiful thing Regina had ever witnessed. Her heart pounded in her chest as she experimentally withdrew her finger slightly and pushed inside again, and once more Emma strained against her, arms falling uselessly to the bed as she gripped the sheets below her. Regina did not mind. She slid herself gently down Emma’s leg as she kept her eyes on Emma’s face. Using her thigh for added pressure, she set a slow but steady rhythm that increased as her desire to make Emma feel better and better overtook her. 

Regina was just as overcome as Emma, who was shocked into passive acceptance in the face of her overwhelming emotions and the pleasure brought forth by Regina. She was reduced to quiet moans and whimpers and Regina’s heart climbed to her throat, restricting her ability to breath as she beheld the wonder below her. Slowly but steadily she moved towards her own peak—stimulated by the sight below her more than she would ever be able to formulate. This was perfection; true beauty, and Regina never wanted to let it go—let it end. Yet, Emma’s body was reaching its breaking point; she could see it in the laboured breathing of the woman below, in the way her hands fisted the sheets, in the sheen of perspiration that formed between her beautiful breasts. Emma’s eyes were shut tight against the onslaught of her emotions, and all that fell from her lips were soft, incoherent, sounds of encouragement. The warm and wet walls around her fingers pulsed and grabbed at her finger, and the thrusts of Emma’s hips became less controlled by the minute; no longer able to keep a steady rhythm. 

Regina pushed herself down harder on Emma’s leg, panting as well, fighting to keep her focus as she got lost in sensations, in causing this in Emma and having Emma bring this level of devotion and passion out in her. As Emma’s body tensed, she pressed harder into her, grinding down with all her power and feeling her own orgasm taking hold the moment Emma’s walls clamped down on her finger and the younger woman arched off of the bed, mouth opened but completely silent. It was glorious, and Regina fought her own desires so she could watch every moment of it. She slowed her movements when Emma fell back down, gasping for air and unfocussed eyes opening to settle on the woman hovering above her. Emma’s hand came up to pull her down for a sloppy, frantic, kiss as Regina felt the aftershocks of Emma’s orgasm ripple through her body to settle in uncontrolled spasms of the walls still surrounding her finger. 

“You are magnificent…” Regina breathed out against puffy lips, completely overcome by Emma’s body and the responses she had provoked in it. Regretfully she slipped her finger from Emma’s sex and relished the shudder that followed. Instinctively she cupped Emma and settled on top of her languidly as she showered her face with kisses, watching her come down. She had only ever felt this level of love and protectiveness for one other person in her life; Henry, and while the situation was entirely different, she still felt an overwhelming urge to cherish and protect the blonde who was still coming down. Emma’s arms wrapped around her more fully, and pulled her down for another series of soft kisses that meant to reaffirm this moment, this bond, that had been formed. When Emma let her up and her eyes blinked open, Regina smiled at her and the sheen of tears that lay upon thee emerald orbs.

“I love you.” Emma whispered, and as Regina’s heart soared, she repeated the words, meaning them with every fibre of her being and feeling that the same held true for Emma—at least in this moment. As Regina wrestled the two of them under the blankets and settled in Emma’s arms, she wondered how Emma felt about tomorrow now. She held back from asking the question; tonight—right now—was enough for her. Tomorrow, she would again take what she would get, but if the way Emma clung to her now was any indication, she was getting a lot more than Emma had originally thought.


End file.
